


This Ain't No Red-Heart Romance

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire concept of Valentine's Day is loaded. As it happens, so is Dean…</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ain't No Red-Heart Romance

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Season 2. Written for the [](http://spn-first-time.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_first_time**](http://spn-first-time.livejournal.com/) Valentine's Day challenge. This came up as a comment offering for a totally different fandom, but then I thought, "Why not put it to better use?" Also for my [](http://spn-25.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://spn-25.livejournal.com/)**spn_25** challenge, this is "Mine."

xoxoxoxox

  
They'd been driving the whole day, so long that they'd started in the snow of South Dakota and ended in Oklahoma rain. Dean wanted a motel and a nap and some dinner, and Sam just wanted to be out of the damn car already.

"By the hour, or for the night?" the motel clerk said.

"Huh?" They hadn't heard that one before, and it left Dean gaping like a fish.

"The night," Sam stepped in. "One room, two queens or two doubles, whichever is cheaper."

"Oh, okay. We only have queen beds anyway."

"What was that all about?" Dean asked as they unloaded their bags from the car.

"Who knows. Maybe this is the town No-tell Motel."

"Oh, gross. Let's check in someplace else."

"This is it, Dean. And you wanted to stop driving anyway," Sam reminded him.

Dean muscled into the room and pulled the spreads and blankets back, checking both beds. "No stains, no pubes. I guess it's okay." He pushed both bedspreads onto the floor and dumped his bag on the bed closest to the door. "Dibs on the shower."

"So you said." Sam used the bathroom and drank a glass of water, then left Dean to his love affair with hot water. The rain had eased up, and Sam took the opportunity to go for a walk and stretch his legs, stopping at the espresso shack up the road.

When he got back Dean was asleep, but the clicking of the deadbolt woke him up as Sam locked the door. Dean yawned. "Time for dinner?"

"There's a problem with that," Sam said. "Maybe. Depending."

"What, the restaurant burned down in the last hour? It's run by zombies?"

"No." Sam leaned against the wall and folded his arms. "It's Valentine's Day."

"Oh shit."

Last year, they'd been in Podunk Texas on Valentine's day. Some windblown burg a lot like this one, where they'd been run out of the local diner before they could even sit down. "Take your alternative lifestyle someplace else," the cashier had said. "This here's a _family_ town." They'd had to settle for what they could find in the vending machine out behind the motel.

"Hey, how many times could that happen anyway?" Dean said after a moment.

"Even if we don't get kicked out, do you really want to sit all the way through dinner with people looking at us like we're a couple?"

"No," Dean scowled. "Fine— we'll do fast food and then go to a bar. I need a drink."

The local hamburger stand had thick charbroiled burgers and incredible flavored milkshakes. Sam got peanut butter, the first time he'd had it in years. Dean went with orangesicle instead and pronounced it "awesome," which Sam verified after swiping it for a taste.

The bar was decked out in crepe paper and hearts and looked like Barbie-World gone bad, according to Dean. It didn't stop him from ordering a whisky double and checking out the locals while Sam sat on the stool next to him drinking a beer.

"Gonna make the rounds," Dean said, finishing his drink and moving off toward the small scatterings of women across the room.

Sam watched him idly for awhile but had to quit, because there was nothing more embarrassing than watching Dean strike out again and again. Some days it was funny, but most of the time it was guilt-by-association and it made Sam feel like a complete jerk. He was halfway through his second beer when Dean appeared by his shoulder, looking utterly pissed off.

"What?"

"They won't even give me the time of day— they think I'm 'insensitive' for stepping out on you."

Sam spluttered a laugh into his beer.

"Totally not funny!" Dean said.

"It's _kind_ of funny." Sam eyed him with amusement. "So I guess you want me to clear out?"

Dean's voice dripped with disgust. "Already too fucking late."

Dean ordered another double and downed it sourly, followed by a shot of tequila. Sam finished his beer in silence, thinking what an ass Dean could be when he got thwarted. Especially by something that came out of left field.

Dean was still in a mood when they got back to the motel. "You owe me," he said.

"What, you want an apology?" Sam shrugged off his coat.

"More'n that." Dean seemed to be weaving on his feet but his anger was genuine. "We're talking handjob, minimum, to make up for what that cost me."

"Dean," Sam scoffed. "Go into the bathroom like you always do and leave me out of it."

"Nothin' doing." Dean shook his head, determined.

He reached out faster than Sam had any right to expect, and dragged him down by the shirt-collar toward his mouth. Sam's last coherent thought was _Wait—_

Soft, so soft, and then a smooth-slick slide as Dean swept his tongue over Sam's upper lip and Sam opened to let him in. Every fleeting late-night fantasy Sam ever had about Dean's mouth was borne out by the discovery that Dean was an incredible kisser, the kind who could get you hard so fast you'd forget to even care who was kissing you or anything like _Why_. "Mmmmm…" Sam moaned, as Dean kept going.

Back and over, right onto the bed with Dean falling on him clumsily, and then straddling him and fucking Sam with his tongue. _Shouldn't… shouldn't…_ Sam tried to tell himself, but too much of him had wanted this for too long. It was in every dirty little hero-worship thought he'd had about Dean suddenly noticing _him_ for a change, looking at Sam with the same starry-eyed admiration he was sure Dean expected from him. It was in every time he'd had to listen to Dean go on about his latest blowjob, while imagining his own cock filling Dean's mouth as Dean did every one of those very same things to him. _God— fuck_.

Sam tightened his arm around Dean's back, pulling him closer while the other hand roved over the tight curve of Dean's denim-clad ass. Dean hissed at the touch, sprawling over Sam awkwardly while his brother slipped his hand down between Dean's legs and brushed it against the side of Dean's balls.

"God, Sammy—"

The tight length of Dean trapped against Sam's stomach told him everything about _Now_ and _Yes_ and _Jesus fuck— just do it already_. But Sam was not about to let all of this be about Dean, not when he had needs of his own and had put up with Dean's sexual bragging for a fucking eternity. He stroked between Dean's legs with maddening softness while undoing his own belt and pants and easing himself out into the delicious, open air.

"Yeah…" he groaned, fisting himself slowly as Dean thrust against his stomach. Dean stopped then, and Sam opened his eyes to see his brother looking back over his shoulder at what Sam was doing.

"Sammy," Dean breathed, in a voice that sounded like wonder.

Dean lurched off of Sam and spun around drunkenly, leaning down and capturing Sam in his mouth. The sudden feeling of warm wetness and the sight of Dean's lips stretched around him nearly made Sam come on the spot, and he squeezed the base of his cock to buy some time.

"God, Dean— so good," Sam gasped out brokenly, his head spinning from the sensations and the heat of something so utterly, wonderfully _wrong._ He'd never been so turned on in his _life,_ and that included his first time ever. A few more well-timed sucks— because Dean was totally a fucking pro at this, even in his current state— and Sam jammed his fist against his mouth as he flooded Dean's mouth in a sudden, overwhelming rush. _Jesus, Dean…_

Light sweeps of Dean's tongue brought him back moments later, and he ran his hand lazily through the velvet brush of Dean's hair. Dean broke off then and made his way back up to the top of the bed, his mouth tasting of alcohol and Sam as he began kissing his brother all over again.

It took no time at all before Sam was ready to return the favor. Slipping his hands between them, he worked Dean's pants open and shoved them impatiently down Dean's legs. "C'mere," he muttered against Dean's lips, pulling on Dean's ass to make his point.

Dean moved forward tentatively, watching Sam's face to see if he meant it. "Yes," Sam said, pulling harder until Dean gave in and positioned himself right in front of Sam's mouth. Sam yanked the pillows in place until his head was propped up, then licked a slow swirl around the glistening head of Dean's cock and took him in.

Dean moaned loudly and nearly fell over, but for the weight of Sam's hands on his hips holding him steady. Sam moved his head around, working Dean over while his brother gasped and shook above him. "Jesus Sam, y' should see how hot you look right now," Dean whispered, his fingers tracing the side of Sam's face.

Sam slipped one hand behind Dean's back and let the other caress the front, stroking the skin down low on Dean's belly as he sucked harder and listened to his brother coming apart at his touch. "Oh— oh— oh God Sammy, yes," Dean cried, his release filling Sam so quickly he could hardly swallow fast enough to stay on top of it. Dean slumped against the wall above him, his harsh breathing drowning out the noises from the adjoining rooms.

After a moment, Dean shifted off Sam's chest and wriggled down to lie beside him, his head heavy against Sam's neck.

"Damn, Dean, how long've you been holding that in?" Sam rasped out breathlessly.

Dean's voice rumbled underneath Sam's ear, unhurried and slow. "Long time now, I guess. Since college. Or the whiskey. Thing at the bar sure pissed me off."

_No shit_. Sam stroked Dean's shoulder, enjoying the unexpectedly silky feeling of the skin. "This your idea of courtship?" he teased. "Where're my flowers and candy?"

"S' ain't no red-heart romance, Sammy." But Dean's fingers brushing along the side of Sam's neck were gentle.

"I know. But it's Valentine's Day after all—can't hurt to ask." Sam tightened his arm around his brother, leaning in to nuzzle his hair. "So… will you be mine?" he murmured, not entirely joking.

He could feel Dean's smile as it formed against his skin, and then Dean lifted up his head to look him in the eye.

That smile was a supernova, powerful and rarely seen. It lit up Dean's face and everything in the room around him. "Yeah, Sammy," he agreed.

"All these years… already was."

 

_\-------- fin --------_  



End file.
